


Because Sometimes It Takes A Monster To Stop A Monster

by IShouldBeWriting



Series: Sometimes It Takes A Monster... [1]
Category: Gargoyles (TV), Jewish Legend & Lore
Genre: Case Fic, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen, Jewish Character, Justice, Kabbala, Molestation, Mysticism, No fair shaking the presents, Supernatural Elements, Triggers, Wrapping traditional lore around your fic and tying it up like the prettiest bow you've ever seen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6036202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/pseuds/IShouldBeWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ariestess, our paths have criss-crossed for quite a few years now and I respect the hell out of you.  Writing for you was exciting and incredibly intimidating.  I sincerely hope you enjoy the results.</p>
<p>The story title is a reference to Steve Niles’ graphic novel, “Breath of Bones” which I encourage you to look up.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Because Sometimes It Takes A Monster To Stop A Monster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



> Ariestess, our paths have criss-crossed for quite a few years now and I respect the hell out of you. Writing for you was exciting and incredibly intimidating. I sincerely hope you enjoy the results.
> 
> The story title is a reference to Steve Niles’ graphic novel, “Breath of Bones” which I encourage you to look up.

 

_He looks so small._  That was Lexington’s first thoughts when he spied the boy, curled up in the lee of the Barbosa memorial and shivering.  While the black wool coat he wore might have been enough during the day, it certainly wasn’t warm enough to handle to post midnight temperatures of Washington Heights in winter.

Lexington hovered on a thermal, thinking, but a sound, a tiny shuddering hitch of breath, made the decision for him.

_To hell with Goliath and his no showing ourselves to humans rule,_ he thought.   _This boy needs help and what are we here for if not to protect and help the people of this city._

Swooping down, Lexington alighted on the pavement a few feet away from the boy, his claws clicking and his body making a soft thud as he landed.

“Hullo?  You look like you could use a hand.”  He offered tentatively.

The boy didn’t scream.  He didn’t run.  He didn’t even flinch at Lexington’s quite obviously inhuman appearance.  Frozen tears and blotches white marred what might otherwise have been a well-formed face quickly approaching the turmoil of human puberty.   A dark lock of hair coiled down one side of his face and when he spoke, his voice was held strong traces of an accent.  Polish perhaps?

“Are you the _[Agrat bat Mahlat]() _ come to claim me?”

“The wha’ –“ Lexington clapped his hand over his mouth, realizing how stupid the statement was about to make him sound.  Drawing himself up to his full four feet of height, the little gargoyle did his best to muster both Goliath’s authority and Hudson’s warmth.  “I am a protector of this city, a gargoyle.  Tell me who it is that has harmed you and I will seek vengeance in the name of … by the way, what _is_ your name?”

“Yossel,” the boy said.”Yossel Shimon.”

There it was again; that accent.  And it wasn’t Polish but German.  Combine that with the neighborhood and suddenly everything fit.

“I know it is not your way to trust outsiders but please, let me help you.”

Palm up to show that he held no weapons; Lexington extended one claw tipped hand.  Hesitantly the boy took it.  Lexington winced.  The boy’s fingers were as cold as the stones of Castle Wyvern first thing in the morning.

“Come on,” he encouraged with a gentle tug.  “I know somewhere safe we can go.”

[~ אמת ~]()

“I _know_ we’re not supposed to, but he was freezing!”

Back turned, the tightness of Goliath’s wings spoke more eloquently than words.

“He’s such a wee thing. T’won’t do any harm.” Hudson’s Scottish brogue was persuasive in his melodic tenor.   “And if what he says is true?  Your Elisa should be told.  The boy deserves justice and isn’t that what we’ve sworn to provide?  Protection, justice?”

“She’s not _my_ Elisa,” Goliath muttered.

Sneaking a quick look at the younger gargoyle, Hudson gave Lexington an encouraging smile.  It wasn’t agreement, but when violating The Rules, it was as close as they were going to get.

“We’ll just get him settled in then.  A couple hours sleep and a warm meal while Brooklyn finds the good detective.  With luck, she’ll be here to take the boy off our hands before sunrise.”

It was playing dirty, but Hudson knew that when it came to Detective Maza, Clan Wyvern’s leader had a soft spot.  More often than not Elisa would find an excuse to end her shift sharing the moments before sunrise stole his consciousness from him talking with Goliath.  They would stand together looking out over the waking city, talking in hushed tones.  If anyone could convince Goliath to allow the boy to seek his asylum within the castle, the dark-haired Detective was she.

 

“Keep watch over him at all times,” Goliath rumbled sternly. “We do not want to draw Xanatos’ attention to his uninvited guest.”

 

Hudson nodded.  It was a small concession to make and he was certain Miss Maza would quickly take the boy off their hands.  Unlike before the long sleep, the human world had protocols for this sort of situation now.  There were people responsible for making certain children like Yossel found shelter from the monsters they’d fled.

 

_Monsters._ It was an ironic term to be applied by one such as himself, Hudson knew.  But he’d seen how jittery Yossel was when Lexington had brought him in, how he flinched at the slightest sound.

 

No, monsters was the right term for whatever darkness the child fled.  And if it took a monster to fight his monsters?  

 

_So be it,_  Hudson affirmed grimly.  Though rare, in this instance he approved of being the monster he and his kind had so often been accused of being.

 

~ אמת ~ 

 

“It’s … soft?”  Yossel offered from the nest of pillows Lexington had collected in the topmost room of the tower over which they stood their daylight vigil.  Though the child hadn’t put them to use yet, Lexington had provided a stack of blankets and quilts as well, remembering how easily humans became cold in the upper reaches of the castle’s heights.

 

“I thought you might prefer somewhere small and safe to one of the guest rooms downstairs.  Those rooms are _huge_ and the beds -” Lexington grinned, his pointed grey canines showing briefly and wing draped arms opened wide to express their enormity.

 

Yossel nodded, the long black banana curls that framed his face bobbing.

 

“Thank you?”  He offered tentatively as he wiggled down into the pile.

 

“Our friend, Elisa, is a police officer.  She said she’ll come by when she gets off shift in a couple hours.  In the meantime, I’ll be right outside.  Nothing’s going to hurt you here, Yossel.”

 

“You are kind, a strong protector.  It’s everything a good golem should be.”

 

Standing in the doorway, Lexington cocked his head inquisitively at the unfamiliar the word.  He made a note to ask the others about it.  If they didn’t know, perhaps Detective Maza would.


End file.
